


Scans

by firewordsparkler



Category: MPU - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Cancer, M/M, MPU, References galore, gotta catch em all, like pokemon, motion practice universe, this is kinda angst-tastic tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-07 00:28:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3154019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firewordsparkler/pseuds/firewordsparkler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every year, Wade Wilson does a thing he's not so happy about. In this story, he does the thing, listens to Taylor Swift, and watches some Bollywood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scans

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the_wordbutler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_wordbutler/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Admissions, Interrogatories, and Other Discoveries](https://archiveofourown.org/works/806216) by [the_wordbutler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_wordbutler/pseuds/the_wordbutler). 



It's stupid, he knows. Well, half the shit that flows out of his mouth is stupid, so it shouldn't surprise him that this is stupid, too. 

His leg is shaking. Like, the dumb kind of leg-shaking that people yell at you for when you're at dinner and the table's vibrating. He's fidgeting like it's his first go-around with this. Like it's not routine and just for procedure. 

Except it's not just routine. He has people now. He has Hope and Nate and a date with Burrito King and he needs this to be clear. Needs it to be - well as weird as it is to describe anything in his life like this- he needs it to be normal. 

"Wade," the nurse calls out, and he follows him through the corridor to the little hospital room.  
...  
He'd run into Hank McCoy-Drake (and yes, for the last time, he knows there's no hyphen) on his way up to the oncology ward. He's missing his run with Clint today for this so he's taking the stairs and lo and behold: the illustrious and infamous Hank McCoy-Drake!

"Lo and behold: the illustrious and infamous Hank McCoy-Drake!" Wade says when he sees him entering the stairwell.

There’s a chart in his hand and he seems distracted when he looks up. "Hi, Wade," he says, and then does a double take. "Wade?"

He does a little finger-wave and bounces on the balls of his feet, itching to go up and avoid the inevitable awkwardness that'll come from Hank asking what he's doing here. 

"I...what are you doing here?" He asks, kinda like Banner-Stark, the Bruce one that is.

"Aside from coming to see your utterly beautiful married behind in action?"

Hank laughs. "Yes, Wade. Aside from that."

"Just a regular check up." Shit. He thought he was getting better at the not-lying thing. Well, technically this is a not-lie. It's a regular thing for him, just not for everyone else. Like how sexing up a gorgeous white-haired man is a regular thing for him. Yeah, it's a good time. At least that's not just annual and doesn't involve people taking pictures of his junk. Although he wouldn't object to that. As long as it's one white-maned near-robot of a man looking at them. 

"You do know that you're on the wrong floor for that, right?" Hank's asking.

Wade's only half listening. He likes Hank, despite his complete inability to make food taste like food, but he wants to get this over with. Not the conversation, in particular, but the day. He figures sprinting through it will make it end faster, and he can get to Burrito King and maybe make it to Nate's before Hope’s bedtime. 

So he's not really listening. "Yeah, that's great," he replies. Hank looks confused, but he continues, "I'm going to head up to my appointment. Running late and all. I'll see you later! Enjoy baby-shopping!" He's halfway up the next flight of stairs when he hears "But you have to go down."

He pretends he didn't hear anything.  
...  
He hates this part. Like, he should despise the part where they take X-Rays of his junk or when the doctor sits him down and asks him all sorts of invasive questions about his life.

His doctor doesn't need to know that he's officially a sodomite who's sleeping with a divorcee. 

But that's not the part he hates. In fact, he doesn't particularly mind telling his doctor about his now-fantastic sex life with a gorgeous man. 

He hates this part. The in-between part. The part where he's waiting for the nurse to come in and take his blood and for the doctor to come in and talk at him and for the MRI technician to scan his ball-less junk.

He hates _hates_ sitting in the hospital room alone, waiting for the appointment to finally start and to find out if the ball cancer came back. 

This is the part where he half feels like a little kid, expecting a lollipop at the end of the visit (which he totally wouldn't mind either way, fyi) and where...well. It's when he remembers everything. It's almost like he's back there. A lacrosse player thinking he's just a little injured and worrying that he'd be benched for the season. 

Then the blood tests and the Jonas Brothers song-esque doctor telling him he had to stay a little bit longer.

There are bits of his soul scattered across hospital rooms and ORs and doctor's offices. Bits that don't just include his not-so-majestic ball-that-was-formerly-attached-to-his-body. Bits that he chooses not to remember and bits that he can never forget.

Like how he cried for his mother for the first time since he was ten when he went through his first round of chemo.

And how his best friend from lacrosse visited him exactly once and was never to be seen again.

And that time when the coach came and started waxing poetic about his replacement.

He needs to stop thinking about this and instead start thinking about that gorgeous burrito he's going to be making sweet mouth-love to while going over the motions he has to file against Clint. Well, it’s technically for his newest DUI client, but he's totally getting his ass kicked in Muy Thai if all the motions pass. Or he'll get slightly closer to getting his ass kicked. He's still better, although he doesn't want to brag (he totally wants to brag).

Yeah, he's a dick. But at least he's not a Loki-sized dickwad who'll sneak the motions in at the very last moment. 

So that's totally what he's thinking about when the nurse comes in to take his blood. 

...

He'd not-lied to Nate, too, about this. No, not the way he not-lied to Hank. Nate Superhot Summers (it was an off-day, okay?) totally knew this was about his ball-less-ness and whether there would be more of it in the future. He'd tried to lie about it, but Nate looked at him (he swears, if he didn't know Clint and Coulson, Nate would so win for freakishly soul-gazing stares. Not the kind that Nat uses. No, he hasn't gotten Romonov's permission to call her anything other than Romonov and she'd probably kick him in his ball-less area if he tried but he totally calls her Nat in his mind.) So Nate had looked at him, and he totally broke down and admitted that it was about his nuts. It's probably one of the few times Nate was actually thankful Hope is deaf.

But yeah, he totally told the truth about the appointment. Well, that he had one and what it was for. But Nate doesn't really have a clue about the feelings part. He'd just asked once if he was nervous, and Wade had replied with a hell no! I'm more nervous about my meeting with a defendant I know will take the plea, this is so routine.

Which it is. And he totally wasn't nervous about Dan who just got a little too drunk at a dive bar and punched a really rich guy and then decided to get behind the wheel. Though he's not sure what the hell really rich guy was doing there in the first place.

Dan’ll plea out. He knows that. He knows that Dan knows that. He knows that Dan knows that he knows that…anyway. He’s not nervous about that.

But nervous for the appointment? Well duh. It's clinically proven that people's blood pressure goes up during a doctor’s visit no matter what.

Finding out whether or not you have cancer again? Psh, total child’s play compared to that. Actually, he's pretty sure the Rogers-Barnes kid was in a play about that.  
…  
The MRI is next, which is the whole reason why he had to take the day off work and miss his Friday routine with Hope and Nate. (No he’s not going to think too hard about the fact that he has a routine with his boyfriend and daughter. He’s going to whistle for a while instead and think about the nuptials of his best friend and creepy mccreeperson instead.

Yeah, he totally knows that Coulson vetoed him being best man. And he’s totally holding that against him for the rest of eternity.

Y’know, if he gets an eternity to live. That’ll happen if the scans are in the clear.

Great. Now he has Taylor Swift’s most repetitive song stuck in his head.

While lying down in a machine for hours.

A machine in which he has to stay completely still or they have to start all over.

He starts whistling. It’s not the most melodious song to whistle, but it’s probably better than singing it out loud.

The MRI technician is glaring at him through the glass.

Maybe singing would have been better.

This is taking forever.

_And always. And I stare at the phone he still hasn’t called and then you feel as though you can’t feel nothing at all…_

Great. Another Taylor Swift song. 

At least this one’s a little more fun and angry. 

“Please calm down Mr. Wilson” comes through the speaker. 

Oh. Maybe an angry song isn’t the best thing to get stuck in your head when you’re supposed to be lying completely still. Heart rate, and all that.

Anyway.

What he saying again?

Oh yeah, the Barton-Coulson wedding of the century. At least, that’s what Clint’s calling it to annoy Stark.

He’s not sure when he started getting invited to Stark’s parties, but he’s pretty glad it happened, if only because Dot Barnes is usually there and Hope and Dot are adorable together. And Stark’s not-kids. 

Now that he thinks about it, Hope’s probably the reason why he’s being invited to the far-too-many shindigs of Tony Stark. 

Damn, being with Nate has perks he hasn’t even thought of before now. It’s awesome.

Hopefully, it will continue being awesome, he thinks as he’s removed from the giant magnet. In another life, he’s definitely a sort-of superhero who hates a guy who can control magnets. Or is a giant magnet. Or something. Either way, he definitely hates MRIs.  
…  
They’ve never talked about it, really. The cancer. The ball-less-ness. The burns. After Darcy, it was a little easier to not freak out at the thought of another human being looking at him.

He still did though, a little, when he and Nate first had sexual relations. 

But Nate stopped all of that by being so damn good at sex.

He’d expected Nate to cringe at the sight of his, well, mutant-ness, or have some sort of reaction, but he didn’t. It’s not that he didn’t notice his imperfections, but Nate didn’t make it matter. And Wade’s always done his best to forget they exist. 

That’s not true. Everyone who knows him well enough knows about his lack of ball and how his awesomeness triumphed over cancer. 

And it definitely will continue to, right?  
…  
He’s ushered into Dr. Friedman’s office and makes small talk with her and answers her questions and before he knows it, he’s shaking the doctor’s hand and she’s letting him know he’ll get a call about the test results and the appointment’s over.

He supposes he’s not so great at small talk, because he vaguely remembers Francie, an old cancer-buddy whose appointments took three hours longer than necessary because of how charming the doctors found her. (That charm never seemed to extend to Wade despite the fact that he was the one driving her to and from the clinic. She just made fun of him all the time instead.) Although, she did soon die so that may have been why.

He decides not to dwell on that and instead blast Taylor Swift on the drive to Burrito King. What? She got stuck in his head and she is fabulous and far more self-aware than you are, okay? Taylor Swift is the greatest.

Okay. Maybe he’s been spending a little too much time with Darcy again.

No, not like that. Darcy is in happily-ever-after-maybe land with Peter Parker. (Who is also all kinds of awesome and really similar to him in some ways. If you look at him the right way, they look the same.) That’s probably why Nate is weirdly and completely okay with them hanging out.

Whatever. He’s not going to question it. He’s also _not a saint and she’s not what you think she’s an actress WOAH she’s better known for the things that she does on the mattress woah soon she’s gonna find stealing other people’s toys on the playground won’t make you many friends. She should keep in mind she should keep in mind there is nothing I do better than revenge._

He’s still listening to Taylor Swift at Burrito King, whizzing through his work at lightning speed while scarfing down his burritos.

If Dr. Friedman questioned his burrito habit earlier, Wade’s pleading the fifth. And yes, he’s totally allowed to represent himself. He’s a goddamn lawyer goddammit.

Wade finishes up his work at the beautiful burrito shop, checks the time, and startles himself with how quickly he worked. It’s only 7:30, and he definitely has time for his insanely attractive boyfriend tonight, as long as said insanely attractive boyfriend is free as well.

‘Cn i cum ovr?’ he texts Nate.

‘Sure. Hope and I are watching a foreign film,’ is the reply that comes a few seconds later. Wade pumps his fist and runs to the car.

‘As lng as its blywd’ he texts back, ‘omw’

He has something to do, and it’s not sitting around at home angsting about a phone call.

But apparently, it’s not enough, since he’s apparently fidgeting enough that Hope shushes him during the first song of Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge.

Long-ass titles for long-ass movies. And long-ass songs, Wade thinks bitterly, sticking his tongue out at Hope. She responds in kind.

Quietly, Nate asks him, “Is everything okay?”

“I’m great!” He replies, a little too brightly. Both he and Nate wince. “I’m fine, really,” he says more calmly. “If anything, I’ll be over it in a couple days.”

“Is this about the-“

“It’s fine,” Wade interrupts before he can go any further. “Let’s just watch the movie.”

Nate raises his eyebrows but does as he asks. They watch the European adventures of Simran and Raj for a while, but Wade just can’t get comfortable and can’t stop smelling that godawful hospital smell and remembering that robotic voice telling him to calm down and keep still.

Which he can’t do. Which is why Nate asks again, “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Just can’t get comfortable,” he replies, shifting in his seat again. 

“Maybe you just need some sleep,” Nate suggests. “You had a long day.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Wade replies, getting up. He sneaks a peck with Nate and a glance at Hope, who’s still engrossed in the movie. “I’ll see you later,” he says and walks to the bedroom.

“Can’t get comfortable,” he repeats to himself while trying to go to sleep. He’s pretty sure the last time he really was comfortable was in a dorm room that couldn’t have been bigger than four by four feet and fast asleep, exhausted from practice and excited for the game the next day.

But maybe it was even before that. Before the burns and the scarring. He was always a little weird because of that. He remembers in sixth grade, the first time you had to change in locker rooms for gym, the laughter and how that was when he started wearing an undershirt all the time, despite the itchiness.

He stops thinking about the fun times in the life of Wade Wilson when Nate comes to bed and automatically curls into him.

“You still up?” Nate asks incredulously.

“Can’t turn off the brain,” Wade replies.

“Oh,” Nate says, “Maybe this’ll help,” kissing him deeply.

This. This is comfortable.

But it probably won’t stay that way, will it? 

Nate cuddles into him more (who knew that Summers would be a cuddler?) and Wade forces himself to relax a little and go to sleep.

If he holds Nate a little too tightly that night, Nate never mentions it in the morning.  
…  
He gets the call he’s been waiting for about a week later. He’d complain about the slow process if he didn’t work for the government.

The phone buzzes while they’re in the middle of another foreign movie. Hope is becoming a little obsessed with Bollywood, according to Nate, and today they’re watching Dil to Pagal Hai, along with Hope trying to learn the moves to Chak Dhum Dhum.

Wade groans at the sound of his phone buzzing and groans even more when he checks the caller ID. “I have to take this,” he says to Nate and signs an apology to Hope.

He’s in the kitchen and letting the phone buzz for a moment before he picks up. He can’t pick up. Not yet. Not when he knows that whatever he hears in the next moment could change his life forever.

He wants to marry Nate, he thinks suddenly. He wants to marry Nate and wants Hope to be with them forever. He wants to do the super domestic family thing that Clint and Bobby and everyone else seem so happy with. 

He wants to have a normal body and not have any risk of cancer and be a badass lawyer and have a gorgeous middle-name-ambiguous husband and an adorable daughter and…everything.

He wants it all, and he could have it all. He doesn’t have to answer the phone. Doesn’t have to hear the nurse tell him that he has to schedule another appointment and then have the rest of his life filled with blood tests and MRIs and losing hair and throwing up and getting colds that land you in the hospital and fucking waiting.

Waiting to see if he has cancer.

Waiting to get tests done.

Waiting for the test results.

Waiting to see if he’s gotten better or worse.

Waiting for someone, anyone to visit him and realizing that nobody’s going to come because the only reason any of his friends were his friends was because he was around them all the time.

He doesn’t have to do that again. He doesn’t have to answer the phone. 

But he has to, doesn’t he? There’s no other way of really knowing.

He presses the answer button, but it’s too late. The call is already going to voicemail and he’s going to have to call back or something.

He puts the phone on the counter and rubs at his temples. He should have just answered the goddamn-

The phone buzzes again, once. He opens up the home screen, which lets him know that he has one voicemail.

He sighs and clicks on it, placing the phone to his ear.

“Hello,” comes a familiar robotic voice. IRENE has been giving him test results for five years now. “This is the Grey-Sloan Memorial Hospital. We are calling to inform you that your tests had…negative results. Your MRI screening had…negative results. Your next appointment has been automatically scheduled for...April 27th, 2015 with…Dr. Friedman. To reschedule, please call at least five days in advance. Thank you and have a nice day. To repeat this call, press-“

Wade hangs up and puts the phone back down. He takes a deep breath and shudders.

His scans were negative.

He’s in the clear.

He smiles to himself for a moment before coming back to a reality where Hope is dancing to a Bollywood song about rain falling when someone laughs and his gorgeous boyfriend is watching the proceedings fondly, waiting for him.

He swears he’s going to marry him someday.

He walks out and plops himself back onto the couch next to Nate, giving him a wet kiss on the cheek. “Hey,” he says, “what did I miss?”

“Pooja and Rahul went to a wedding together and talked about love,” Nate replied. “What’s going on?”

“Not important anymore,” Wade replies. “Just the check-up results.”

This makes Nate perk up. “Oh? And?”

“And nothing,” Wade replies, smiling. “As healthy as a ball-less man can be.”

Nate snorts and shakes his head. “I never thought I’d be thankful that my daughter’s deaf. You’ve proven me wrong.”

“And I shall continue to defy your expectations forever, Nate Summers.”

“I sure hope so,” Nate replies, leaning in for a kiss. Which, of course, is when Hope turns around and makes gagging noises, forcing them to break apart for the time being.

Nate winks at him, actually winks, and something inside Wade uncoils. He’s in the clear. No cancer. No interruptions from this, here and now. Not for another year, at least.

He finds himself thinking, ‘I do, too, Nate.’

**Author's Note:**

> -In my headcanon, Hope totally loves foreign films because “everyone needs subtitles” instead of just her. 
> 
> -I wrote ‘Wate’ way too many times to be funny, or even mildly embarrassing. 
> 
> -This is that casual reminder that Wade’s mom left when he was ten according to the MPU.
> 
> -This is me handing you a Kleenex (or a Jackson because I’m in India and apparently that’s the Kleenex of this country)
> 
> -When I say things like ‘imperfections’ and ‘abnormalities’ please PLEASE don’t think that’s me shitting on things about people that are different. I just think that’s where Wade’s head’s at, in that moment, and it’s what he’d be thinking.
> 
> -The vast majority of this was written while listening to “Out of the Woods” by Taylor Swift. No, Taylor Swift is not paying me for all this advertising
> 
> -DDLJ and Dil to Pagal Hai were two of my favorite movies when I was a kid. They still are two of my favorite movies. [Here ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=baBgEBQnmdc) is the music video for Chak Dhum Dhum, which really needs to be watched by all of you because imagining Hope Summers with all those kids made my day.
> 
> \- Whoever can find all the references to Taylor Swift gets a virtual cookie. And the Bollywood references. And other random references.
> 
> Disclaimers:  
> -Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge is owned by Yash Raj Productions.
> 
> -Dil to Pagal Hai is owned by Yash Raj Productions
> 
> -Shah Rukh Khan owns my heart
> 
> -The songs “Out of the Woods,” “Forever and Always,” and “Better than Revenge” are owned by Taylor Swift and Big Machine Records
> 
> -I’m pretty sure Taylor Swift owns Big Machine Records because she’s basically the only superstar on the label and is fantastic
> 
> -Taylor Swift co-owns my heart with Shah Rukh Khan
> 
> -The song “A Little Bit Longer” is by the Jonas Brothers, Nick Jonas specifically, and is about that time he got diagnosed with Juvenile Diabetes. It’s one of the few old Jonas Brothers songs I still remember.
> 
> -Deadpool and Nate Summers and Hope Summers are all owned by Marvel, as well as Francie, who was Wade’s girlfriend once upon a time (a few mistakes ago) in the Marvel ‘verse
> 
> -The entire Motion Practice Universe is owned by the wonderful and fabulous the_wordbutler
> 
> -the_wordbutler co-owns my heart with Taylor Swift and Shah Rukh Khan.


End file.
